Shatter
by SomeDamn Author
Summary: Uchiha Madara...as we know him, the most badass shinobi to be born. A one-shot looking into what transformed him into that.


He hated it. He loathed it. He despised all of it.

The warm atmosphere had something to do with it, he supposed. It got to him like an itch, like something he wanted to scratch and throw away.

The final rays of the sun were receding from the horizon. The birds chirped happily amidst the sound of the whispering leaves.

He was leaning carelessly on the wooden railings on his porch. Legs lay outstretched, and one arm was curled up into a fist, something, he found, always comforted him, ever since his childhood.

Uchiha Madara smiled wryly as the blunt flavor of the rubicund wine hit the back of his throat. Pausing to look up, he brought the vessel to his lips again, and sipped gently, without a sound.

He'd always held an impeccable demeanor. Anyone who looked at him never failed to look again. It was not just his appearance, not the way one eye was always covered by a thick shock of bluish-black hair, not his broad shoulders, not his ever-so-slightly sunken eyes.

Rather, it had more to do with…the air around him. Uchiha Madara always held an air of dominance, without even showing so much as a flicker of emotion. It was like he was constantly intimidating you, but without showing any outward emotion.

As the sun sunk lower and lower, he couldn't help but feel his spirits rise. The night always livened him. It made him feel…enriched, alert. The day, however…especially at this place…so bright…and warm…..

The soaring spirits wouldn't last, though. He spied two of his clansmen in the far distance, farther than a normal man could see. This probably the reason the two men hadn't sensed his presence.

The mere sight of his clansmen irked him.

_How? How did this…all of this come to pass? Some time ago, my men would be battle ready at the very sound of 'Senju'. But now….._

_They fraternize with their very enemies like lowborn scum. Given time, they would even fornicate with those despicable excuses for shinobi….._

A sudden, sharp spike of anger rode his mind on his last thought. His hands suddenly gripped the wine glass tightly. Still looking up, he flung the glass away, unmindful of the sound of it hitting the ground and shattering.

_Shatter…just like me. _

_Curse you….._

_Curse you, Hashirama…_

The last ounce of his sudden temper ebbed away, to be replaced my dull weightlessness. He slowly closed his eyes, and gave in completely to his thoughts.

…_Gifted since birth…potential, lots of them. A happy childhood….four brothers…..and then…..the war. Three of his brothers…gone…dead….. Extreme grief….and then….determination._

_Couple that with hard work…a rise to dizzying heights….respect of fellow clansmen…power….prestige…._

_..And then….a leader…the strongest…._

_But it wasn't to be._

_An interruption…a thorn in my flesh…a friend, a close friend….then…a rival…and then…_

…_enemy…._

That face, that very face. Hashirama Senju.

Somehow, through means Madara knew not, he'd won the respect of _his _men…the very men who'd sworn their entire lives to him, were now happily lapping up Hashirama's giveaways like obedient dogs.

In the end, it mattered not. Hashirama had gained everything…the village, his men, respect…

On the other hand, he, Madara had been left with nothing. His men, his dignity, his pride, and most of all…his will.

Hashirama Senju had taken it all. He didn't know where it had gone wrong…where it had started the unknown downward spiral.

…_Wood. What a despicable excuse for a weapon…._

But Hashirama had flaunted even that. Most of the village's founding structure was based on Hashirama's Wood Release.

Even the porch he was sitting on, right now was his.

_What belongs to me then? What have you left me, Hashirama?_

Still closing his eyes, he bent, picked up a piece of shattered glass, and flung it, with all his might, forward, wishing, hoping that whatever it pierced would be Hashirama's heart.

Hearing a sudden sound not long after he'd flung the glass piece, he opened his eyes…and his breath caught in his throat.

_..As if Hashirama tormenting me weren't enough…his cursed wife too?_

* * *

His eyes focused on the lithe figure of Uzumaki Mito, watching him curiously, with a soft frown adorning her face.

"…I didn't sense you."

The woman's frown seemed to soften.

"..It's not often I don't sense someone, and better still, someone who is standing so close."

"It is good to see you too, Uchiha."

"Does it irk you to speak my name, just like everyone else in this cursed place?"

Madara's face showed no emotion at all. His voice was calm and even, betraying nothing. However, his heart seemed to start beating fiercely against his chest.

He didn't know what it was, about this certain woman that riled him up. Maybe it was the fact that she was _Hashirama_'s wife….or it could be the way her bright red hair led a soft dance with the wind, or her dark eyes, and the way they looked steadily at him.

Whatever it was, Madara had already decided that holding a conversation with Hashirama without losing his temper was easier than confronting his wife.

She laughed. It wasn't wild or showing great joy. It was dignified, yet it wasn't put on just for pretence.

"No, indeed…Madara."

Uzumaki Mito walked up closer to him. Meanwhile, Madara remained seated, but folded his legs and sat straight, as a show of respect.

"Why…did you come here?"

Mito, who was adjusting her sash, looked up with a cheerful smile.

"No reason specifically. Hashirama had to go for a village meeting, and I wanted to enjoy the breeze. While walking about, I sensed your wayward chakra."

Madara knew that she was already aware of his intense dislike for his rival. The usual spike of temper at the mention of his rival's name was immediately quelled by the fact that she had come to check on _him_.

"….I see. So does my wayward chakra worry you?"

Still walking forward, she paused.

"…Yes, it does…about you. Why…Madara?"

"I don't like it here. It really is that simple. Add to that," at this point, he hesitated, contemplating whether or not he should go on.

"…the fact that Hashirama has now taken away everything that I held dear."

Uchiha Madara was never usually surprised easily. His mind always improvised, and instead of dwelling on the moment, it would already start drawing out implications and possibilities.

However, it wasn't ready for Mito's reaction.

A sad smile graced her face.

For the first time Madara's face twisted into a frown.

"It amuses you, does it?"

Futile question. He knew, somehow, that it didn't.

"Not at all. It's just that…"

Madara raised an eyebrow at her hesitation.

"…Forgive me…but I fail to agree with your ideals."

Madara tilted his face sideways and levied her with a questioning glance.

"Your ideals…do you consider yourself a leader?"

Madara's interest was now piqued.

_This woman challenges my capabilities?_

"I _am _a leader."

"Ah, but that depends on what you believe a leader is. You see, a leader takes his people's interest into account. You, on the other hand, Uchiha Madara, don't seem to function that way."

Madara laughed. It amused him to see how less people understood of him. He raised an eyebrow at the Uzumaki.

"You, Uzumaki Mito, don't know enough about me to adopt that tone."

Uchiha Madara would never admit it, but he was already immensely enjoying the conversation. It had been an extremely long time since _anyone _had ever talked to him like that, and now, when someone _was _talking to him, he felt alive in a conversation for the first time in months.

He smiled inwardly at the way Mito was returning his stare defiantly.

Suddenly breaking off the stare, Mito walked even closer. Madara, meanwhile, sat stock still, eyes directed anywhere but at Mito.

Walking a few steps, she lightly caught her kimono, and promptly sat down on the front of Madara's porch, her back facing him.

The silence, punctuated by the wind and leaves, was broken yet again when Mito spoke.

"….I apologize, Uchiha-dono, if my words were derogatory in nature."

"Sudden politeness? This is unexpected indeed."

At this point in time, Madara was still calmly looking to his left, at the trees, and the darkening landscape.

Mito turned sharply, and Madara drew his gaze to her yet again.

"Do you think I do not know of your condition? You, the great and valorous Uchiha Madara have been abandoned by your people, who are now in favor of my husband. Do you really think this is Hashirama's fault? Do you know what it really is to be a leader, Madara?"

Madara, who'd been meeting her determined gaze with a gentle smile up until this very point, suddenly became expressionless. Mito still held her glare.

To her surprise, Madara got up, ever so suddenly.

Instead of looking up at him, Mito held her gaze level, and got up too, to face him.

The two shinobi stood facing each other, both locking eyes. Their heights were almost level, with Madara being taller than Mito by a small amount.

"Do not challenge me, Uzumaki Mito."

"You misunderstand."

"On the contrary, it is you who does not understand. You ask me what it is to be leader? I shall tell you, Uzumaki, so listen well. A leader isn't someone who stands above all. A leader isn't someone who watches as his men die. A leader isn't someone who dishes out commands, expecting them to be followed. A leader is the man who walks _with _his men, as a guide, and a man who would willingly give up his life if it meant victory for his men. A leader is someone you look up to, as a source of joy, or inspiration."

Madara spoke in a low tone, but ito Uzumaki's gaze seemed to falter. Uchiha Madara was no longer playing around. He was now in earnest.

"You ask me what it is to be leader, Uzumaki Mito? I shall not reply to your question. Forgive me, but I will only ask more questions: Is it being a leader when you follow your men into an abyss? Is it being a leader when you submit to your men's foolish demands? Is this what it is, then? Here I am, forsaken by just about everyone. My family...gone. My men…gone. My … will? It will probably be the only thing I cling on to. And cling on to it I will."

Mito's gaze faltered yet again. They were standing extremely close to each other, and, at one point, Mito lowered her gaze.

"Tell me…Mito…."

Uzumaki Mito didn't respond. Not when she felt Madara Uchiha touch her cheek. Not when she felt him lift it, by just a fraction. Not when she realized what was going to happen. Not when Madara brought his face forward, and not even when their lips touched.

It could only have been for an instant, a momentary second of tranquility, and then gone, like a wisp of smoke. It could even have been for an eternity, stretching on and on, like the vast, endless ocean.

Whatever it was, it didn't matter, really. When their lips parted, she found courage to look into his eyes again…into the eyes of a man who was broken beyond repair.

Madara's eyes were fixed, just as they always were. No changes, none at all, not a sliver of emotion coursed through his elegantly carved face.

Mito stepped back, and turned without a word. Madara still remained fixed at the very spot.

The sun had completely set by then, and the moon was already up, a good way into its journey. She had barely walked a few steps when…

"Ah! There you are, my dear!"

Uchiha Madara looked up, a sudden surge of adrenaline coursing through his veins.

Not now, not at this moment. It had been so perfect. She would just walk away, and he would sit down, back where he'd sat. And then, he would remain, thoughtless.

But now, that was destroyed, by the very man who had taken everything from him.

"What were you doing her, all this while? I was searching…"

"I just came to visit Uchiha-dono. That was all. Shall we be off, love?"

Madara stared, without a word. Hashirama barely turned to look at him. Interlocking his fingers with his wife, his hand around her waist, they departed….

_Shall we be off, love?_

…_we be off, love?_

… … _be off, love?_

… … … _off, love?_

… … … … _love?_

Madara closed. A strange sensation overtook his stomach. It gripped him, tossed him about like a ragdoll.

And Madara knew, he wouldn't break down, he wouldn't let a single tear grace his face, he wouldn't scream in despair, he wouldn't tear out strands of his hair in disappointment, he wouldn't sink to the ground, and beat it, over and over and over again, in utter and complete agony.

Madara knew.

He knew what to do.

* * *

"Nine-Tails, you are merely a momentary life, a temporary existence of coalesced energy…energy that once was a single, ultimate form! An unstable force, lacking in intelligence or sapience, you require a guide to show you purpose. That guide is the Uchiha! The tailed beasts are but slaves to those with a true purpose at heart."

"_**Obey"**_

* * *

**Only a one-shot.**


End file.
